Where is the Happy Ending?
by Siouxsie Granada
Summary: When tragedy strikes in Wonderland, where is Alice to help? Rated M for many reasons, including SLASH. Don't like, don't read. In progress. I do not claim to own any of Mr. Carroll's characters.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer – I do not own any of the characters used in this fan fiction, nor do I claim the idea of Wonderland. I am doing this out of boredom, creativity and my personal insanity. I know there are probably mistakes and such, but I will fix them if you point them out.  
My plot for this is built upon the idea that there is more than one kingdom in Wonderland. The only one Alice had ever been to was the Kingdom Hearts. Time is different in Wonderland, and it would be more than sixty years since Alice has been to Wonderland, ten days or so since she's even been alive. The idea is, that they are looking for her where she originally chased the rabbit down the hole. Instead of finding Alice, they find her great nephew, thinking that she's just had a kind of identity crisis and began dressing differently. Her great nephew is about nineteen, though he could only pass for about fifteen. He ends up liking the idea of Wonderland better than the real world. He is willing to help in the war between Hearts and Spades—but for a price. Hahah, read to know more_. :D_  
By the way, this is rated M for many reasons, including Gore, Romance, etc. Mosty because there will be slashy goodness in detail later on. Please R&R __3_

_x--x--x--x--x_

An almost black and white landscape surrounded the Cant hare, ruby eyes scanning the area. He was searching once more for the girl that was in his world; it had been so long since Alice had left, but he remembered her face perfectly. That child stalked her the entirety of the visit, and he was the entire reason she ever entered the magical land.

The vicinity around him was quite strange to him—trees that were skinny and without leaves, black in color from being killed off by Winter. The sky was grey, the clouds were white and streaky across the sky, as if to be too lazy to think about doing anything more impressive with themselves. It was like someone took a photograph of the scene with black and white film, but by now there was color film, digital cameras—the works.

It was getting late, and the bit of color that peeked onto the skywas a little bit of purple from the setting sun. "No one again today…" he whispered to himself, hopping into the rabbit hole less than a metre behind him. As he let Gravity take her course, he transformed. Cant had morphosed into an almost albino-looking human. The morphing made kaleidoscopic wonder of the rabbit hole so much "curiouser" as Alice would have put it, when she often forgot her grammar.

Gravity decided to be an odd Mistress, randomly deciding that she would change from too much to too little, making the shapeshifter jerk around in mid-air. He became used to it after the many events of it happening. _Gravity must be having another one of her temper tantrums, _he thought, nose twitching at the thought of Time having a fit, too. Usually when Gravity was angry, it upset Time and they tried to turn the Kingdom of Hearts upside down.

The blonde shapeshifter's movements, skittish at the smallest noise, got him to the Hatter's eternal tea party, hopping the wrought-iron fence. Cant was happy that his now dingy and blood-stained trousers did not get caught on the tetnis-infected spikes. That was the last thing he needed, lockjaw on top of his many abscesses, lacerations and bruises.

"Hatter, my dear, you need to sleep eventually…" he whispered underneath the brim of a signature piece—an oversized kelly green top hat. The timid words caused the madman to shiver, not used to physical contact. There was a good reason to fear it, too.

"I'm waiting for March Hare, Rabbit." Hatter replied, voice riddled with sleep and the sadness of missing his former companion. He wanted to regain the friend he'd lost, but was not willing to offer this to anyone that was not an insane, brown rabbit-like shapeshifter. Too bad "Rabbit" only fit into three of these characteristics.

Cant sighed, knowing full well that Marchen wasn't coming back. "I'll wait with you for a while, Hatter, but I need to inform everyone about my 'searching.'" He said, and arm wrapping around the red-head's shoulders.

If you've never been to Wonderland, there are certain reactions that are most common. First there is amazement, which is fully expected from most of the characters around Hearts. Wonderland was an amazing place to be. It was a bright land, almost psychadelic in appearance. There was always something changing colors, fading softly and slowly enough to watch it's entire gradient. The second most common reaction is fear. Who knows where that came from before? Maybe out of shock, seeing all of the strange creatures, "humans", and plants just plastering the landscape. Maybe out of the strange Time and Gravity. Now, of course, there was definitely a good reason to fear Wonderland. At least Kingdom of Spades and Kingdom of Hearts were things to be avoided.

Cant just sat there for a moment, admiring his world after spending such an extenuating time in the bland world above. Though, soon his attention was brought back to Hatter, his bucked teeth biting down on his apparently crimson-stained lips. "Hatter…" he whispered, running his free hand, slender and pale, along the man's neck. "I need to tell you something, but you aren't going to like it..."

"Can you not tell me, then, Rabbit? I want to stay happy for a moment." The human uttered, loving the physical attention and having a friend around him for once. He could sense that his former companion, Marchen, was not coming back, but he wanted to have something—**anything—**to look forward to.

There was war in Wonderland, and one of the effects of this war was the accidental death of the March Hatter.

_x--x--x--x_


	2. Chapter 2

It didn't take long for Cant to get uneasy; he wanted to stay with Hatter, but he knew that everyone needed informed of the events, or lack thereof, that had happened today. He sighed, longing to tell Hatter that the friend that had once been eternally with him would never be seen again. Hatter would get cross, though. And when Hatter got cross, he got scarily angry. "Hatter, my dear, I must leave you be for the moment. I shall return tomorrow, or maybe later in the day, depending on what happens with my lack of information. I fear for my life every time I tell King that I have seen nothing of Alice or anyone to help us." he said softly, hoping there would be no disappointment in him specifically. Cant removed his arm from Hatter's torso as he stood, but Hatter grabbed his wrist and looked up into the shapeshifter's eyes.

"I can't let you get hurt anymore, Cant." for once in the man's life, he sounded sane. "Because a bat is a bat, and you must hit it with one for it to cancel out. But you are a rabbit. You are special to me because rabbits can't get hit with rabbits and cancel out. Do you understand? Rabbits do no wrong!" he was almost yelling at this point. Insanity comes in strange packages.

"I won't get hurt again, Hatter. You have to let me go before they come after me. They will hurt me if they find that I did not deliver a message. They may even behead me. Queen has gotten so much worse where that is concerned. She's going even more mad..." he cried, trying to pry his hand away from the tea enthusiast.

Hatter remained his overwhelmingly strong grip on the shapeshifter's wrist, but not hard enough to break anything. "You mustn't leave!" he cried, pulling the rabbit onto his over-sized chair with him. "You cannot leave me the way Marchen did!"

There was a loud, rhythmic shaking to the ground, and it was known in Hearts that that was no good. "Let me leave to at least tell them I saw nothing! I will return unharmed!" Cant cried. He caught a glimpse of the man's face, contorted with despair. It wasn't until the vision came to him that he also noticed a tear running down the slightly wrinkled cheek of the Hatter. "...H-hatter?" he whispered. "What is wrong?"

"He's dead, isn't he?"

Silence.

Tears.

Pain.

"Yes, Hatter. He was on the wrong side of the..." but he was cut off.

The King and half of his army had arrived, just for the white rabbit.  
Jumping off of his own horse-like creature, neon red in color, with large, black eyes and white hooves, he confronted the male. "YOU! Did you observe the over-world today, or did you just sit like a coward here on your human pet's lap?" The king was not a scrawny man, like most people had always expected. He was not much taller than Cant, but he was not helpless, scrawny, or passive like most would depict him. His body was quite slender, but muscular completely. His hair was chin-length and auburn in shade, surrounding his squared-off jaw and masculine features. He was not unattractive, either. At least Cant never complained when he was being beaten by the man.

A small gasp escaped the ruby lips, shaking his head. "I observed, your Majesty." he stuttered, shivering at the man's presence. "There was nothing there but the usual peacock. That was the only color as well. I do believe that world is dying as well!" he tried sounding as if the world above had completely ended, while this was just starting to end. At least, the freedom of the Hearts kingdom was at stake.

His Majesty jumped over the wrought-iron fence the same way that Cant had, storming toward both Hatter and the shapeshifter. "And you did not come to report this!? YOU KNOW THERE COULD BE ANOTHER INVASION ANY MOMENT! WHY DO YOU THINK THIS IS SO IMPORTANT? Or is the most reliable halfling turning into a sporadic loser, like your little tea party mate?"

Hatter was almost bawling at this point, losing it when the King had completely insulted him, not used to bad-mouthing at all. "Your Majesty, p-please..." he cried, "don't hurt Cant...I kept him here." he confessed.

"Don't hurt Cant? I'm sure he could have gotten away from you if he had wanted to. He knows how to kill people at a moment's notice, don't you know that?" the King growled, turning on his heel, he ordered his troops to leave him here, alone. "Go, don't return! I have a way to get back."  
Cant bit his lip, wanting to be scared, but was so used to it, and he loved the attention. At this point it was more than a beating, and he lusted after it. The pain was something he enjoyed and looked forward to. But he was scared for Hatter. Hatter was such a tender soul, it would be a shame for him to be corrupted by the acts of such a King. Such a King to rape his servants, both literally and of the spirit.

"I will give you a reason never to betray me again, men!" the King roared, lifting his fist at the shapeshifter, as the now-human coiled with anxiousness.

x--x--x--x


	3. Chapter 3

"Basically, Mrs. der Regen, your mother left you everything..." the monotonous esquire explained, shuffling his papers about before continuing on with his verbalization. "but in order to receive any of the small fortune Alice acquired writing stories, you have to take care of her house until _you_ die..." the only word he said that was slightly more annunciated echoed through the woman's mind, eyes widening.

"You cannot move me from London!" she screamed, gripping the arms of the overstuffed leather chair, becoming quite disgruntled with this. She was not looking for taking care of some cruddy old manor in the moor, she wanted the half million dollars that the former White Rabbit chaser had earned writing about her adventures in Wonderland. Though, everyone seemed to think they were fiction.

While Olivia was throwing a temper tantrum, there were small crystal trinkets being shifted around by the stomping of the woman. The office was quite fancy. There were over-sized leather chairs, full bookshelves with case files from as far away as Malaysia. Everything seemed to be dully colored, except for the black and white tiled floor, which was bright and shiny marble.

Thank goodness for her son, who had come into the office of Mr. Swinson, armed with a Xanax and talk of college. He knew how to calm his mother down, and it was easy for him to do so. She'd need to go to the tea room after this meeting. He'd just come from that room, as that was the only authorized place to smoke in the entire vicinity.

"Mother, what is wrong...?" he asked, placing the pale blue hexagonal pill into her palm and his free hand on her powder pink suit jacket. Powder pink was not a mourning color, yet she was proud to be wearing it, along with her matching pencil skirt and crisp white Oxford shirt.

"_My_ dreadful mother, is making me move all the way from London to Ipswich! How am I to survive? Your father will never understand...and being married to a LORD doesn't change anything to the positive..." she cried, wiping tears from her eyes, though they were selfish, and were something that she used to get her way whenever she didn't like something.

"Mother, it shouldn't be all that bad, now...I'm sure the country would do your stress good." he whispered, patting her on the back. "Remember what Dr. Smith said about your panic attacks..." he muttered, hoping she'd understand what he meant. "And besides, it would do my portfolio well to have more natural shots, you know. All I have from recent is a bunch of street rat photos, and they do no good unless I'm selling to random dirty punkers." he informed her, and it was obvious that she was calming down, having dry swallowed the tiny pill as he was speaking. She loved to talk about her son's art; she was a very proud person, and it showed in the way she dressed, spoke, even how she moved.

Vincent just kneeled down, patting her knee. Vincent was not an ugly boy, though he was born from two average-looking people. He had long, dark, asymmetrical hair, pale skin, and large green eyes. He was quite tall, about six foot three, and had legs too long to really buy a pair of pants that went down far enough to cover the tops of his shoes. He actually preferred wearing his pants tighter on his legs, so he usually attempted buying pants from the juniors section at a girl's store. They just felt better to him.

Vincent removed his over-worn brown tweed blazer and hugged his mother gently. "Mother, it's going to be okay. Even if just me and you go, we'll still be able to be happy..." he whispered, standing once more. "Let's go get some tea..." the sixteen-year-old incited, heading toward the door, pulling his now-grey Nirvana shirt over his stomach and folding his coat across his arm.

It would only be a matter of time before Vincent would be found out by Cant...


	4. Chapter 4

It was strange, being this close to Hatter. Cant had never really touched him, at most held his hand. But the way the King had left him, he was lying on top of Hatter, in the giant chair. "Hatter...are you...o-okay?" he whispered, a hand resting on the back of the human's neck, pulling himself so that he was straddling him. His own ruby red eyes peering into the male's pale green orbs. His lips were trembling; Hatter was so beautiful, and he had been hurt so badly.

"I...I'll be just fine,.." Hatter whispered, voice shaking as he cried, clinging to Cant for comfort. Right now, though he was bleeding and bruised, he craved physical attention, he himself wanted to hurt someone—to cancel out the pain he was feeling. "Cant..." he whispered, pale lips brushing against on e of the shapeshifter's most sensitive parts the ears. "Would you stay with me tonight? I'll let you go...in the morning, but I need you tonight..."

Cant looked a bit confused at the man's words, but shivered at the touch of silky lips upon his ears and hot breath on his neck. His physical wants much outweighed what his mind was telling him, Logic had not stuck around when his daily dose of Kingly abuse had come around. "I'll stay...I'll do what you want me to do tonight..." he whispered, his ear twitching slightly.

"You promise you won't leave?" Hatter inquired, looking at Cant face on, getting closer as he spoke. He couldn't wait for an answer, it was killing him, and he didn't think that Cant would just leave him there to die. His lips collided with the other male's, hands moving from stiffly on either side of him to around the shapeshifter's waist as he deepened the kiss.

Cant had barely opened his mouth to reply when the man had captured his lips in a kiss. It had caught him slightly off of his guard, but he quickly recovered, kissing him back as his eyes shut, biting Hatter's lip gently. He could barely breathe, he had wanted this so badly and it made his heart race. He pulled away for a moment, catching his breath. "Hatter...are you certain it is good for us to be doing this?" he whispered, knowing that if Cheshire found out, Hatter would only get hurt worse.

"I don't care, Cant, if it's good or not. I want this more than anything...you're my only companion..." he whispered, kissing him again, gently tugging the other male's shirt off of his body. "I love you...and I can't hold myself together anymore..."

Cant was surprised to hear the man speak so bluntly. He usually walked around everything, trying to not tell the truth; at least not all of it. "Whatever you want..." he whispered, smiling.

The talking stopped there. All of their moves made up for the silence.

Not far away, the Cheshire cat was watching their every slight move, listening to their every word. He was not happy with Cant for disobeying...

_x--x--x--x--x_


	5. Chapter 5

.xxxxWARNING!xxxx. _SLASH. INCEST. LEMON! Enjoy. _

Let's just say Mr. Viktör der Regen wasn't quite ecstatic with the idea of his almost-in-college son and his wife leaving the city for a cruddy mansion in Ipswich, but he was too bothered with work to care more than he did. "Just, don't need my help getting there…" he had yelled from his home office, having given Mrs. der Regen quite a nice wad of cash.

"Thanks, Daddy!" Vincent called back, but walked into the man's office anyway. It was only three hours since they had spoken to the lawyer about Gramma Alice's last will and testament. When he had entered the über-metalic, futuristic office of his father's, he locked the door behind him. His mother had left to go get boxes or something; he couldn't remember. All he remembered was she wouldn't be back for a while. An hour or more. That was just fine with him, really. He was the only thing that could ever distract his _daddy _for more than a few minutes.

"Vincent…" Viktör sighed, turning in what looked like a hard, chrome version of a doctor's chair. "…I'm _so_ busy tonight…" he complained, watching his son walk over to the salt-and-pepper oversized chaise lounge—the only soft furniture in the whole room. He removed the coat he'd been removing and replacing all day. For such a cold-looking room, it was kind of…hot.

"Daddy…I'm only going to be here until tomorrow. Early, tomorrow." Vincent argued, taking the 40-year-old's hand in his own. "I won't see you for a while…" he whispered, pulling him closer, chair or not.

"I have to write up a whole speech for the Prime Minister, and…and…I can't do this anymore, Vincent. We'll get caught…" He retorted, but sat down next to his son anyway. This caused the child to smile, scooting closer to him and licking his lips.

"Just…one last time can't hurt, right?" Though, depending on his daddy's mood, it might hurt. His father could get quite _fun_ when angry. It was so adorable to Vincent.

Viktör sighed, wanting to _so _badly, but so scared that his wife would be home at any moment to break up their 'little bonding time.' "One more time, Vincent…" he whispered, but before the words were even out of his mouth, Vincent was straddling his elder, tugging his tie off with his teeth.

"Daddy…" he whispered, unbuttoning a few buttons off of the man's shirt, kissing the bare pectorals and breastbone gently, occasionally scraping the man's chest with his teeth. "What will you do when I leave, hmm?" he looked up into Viktör's eyes, their almost matching colors reflecting beautifully, though Viktör's were full of lust, and Vincent's were almost completely innocent.

The adult had placed his hands on the hips of the child, pulling him closer as the faded shirt of the boy was slowly removed, peeled off and thrown to the ground. "I'll be miserable…so lost without you. Lonely." He whispered, bucking his hips upward and into the Vincent's. "But don't worry about that now…" he whispered, as he heard his son moan musically,

_UuGnnH…_

His moan was nothing, he wanted the last time he was _with_ his father to be the best ever. "Viktör…" he leaned into the man, grinding his own hips against the other's biting gently on the man's bottom lip. It was not unusual for him to call his father, a greatly respected man in the country, by his first name. "I _need_ this, so badly…" even consulters or the Prime Minister had secrets.

Viktör pushed his son back onto the fluffiness of the seat, fiddling with the boy's belt, trying to get the boy's pants off. He needed it probably worse than his son did, and because of this, he was shaky.

As Viktör messed with his belt and pants, Vincent easily got his father's off, and his hand had already wrapped around the man's stiff member, slowly moving his digits up and down the length, having a difficult time being pinned down, but smirked up at his father. "You'll be like this a lot won't you?" he whispered, embarrassed when his father actually got his pants off—he was just as bad or worse off where his erection was concerned.

"You're such a _bad_ boy, Vincent…" he clicked his tongue, as if it was telling him to not be that way. "


End file.
